


and i gotta get to rock bottom

by hollow_city



Series: after laughter (comes tears) [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Fear, Gen, Major Character Injury, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 16:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11672943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollow_city/pseuds/hollow_city
Summary: it takes him a moment to realize that something is wrong. wrong as inreallywrong, because there's a large hole in his stomach, and he's only just now realizing it as he slaps at it haphazardly with his empty hand. the pain takes a moment to register, and when it finally does, his gun slips from his fingers and he sucks in a quick breath, only to find that that makes it burn even more.[or: jason falls for the oldest trick in the book and runs from the help that he desperately needs.]





	and i gotta get to rock bottom

**Author's Note:**

> let me explain. paramore has been my favorite band for years and after laughter fixed everything wrong in my life, and i've been looking to write this since it came out two months ago. i couldn't help but think this album could literally be titled Jason Todd: The Soundtrack.  
> but anyway: i do not own after laughter, it belongs to paramore, and i do not own any dc characters.

Laughter. It's the only thing he hears and it's the one thing he hates most. 

At least,  _that_ laughter.

He wants to hit himself because it's so cliche that he wants to gag, but if he hit himself right now, he would probably end up with his ass on the pavement.

He knows exactly what this is and really, he's just kind of annoyed. Fear toxin? Did he really fall for that one again? Yes. He did. 

And now he's swaying back and forth on some roof that he doesn't recognize, listening to laughter interspersed with the thunder that's cracking across the sky. Thankfully, it isn't raining, because then he would be done for. It's hard enough to see as it is, but adding rain and lightning to the mix would ruin any semblance of stability he has left. 

It takes him a moment to realize that something is wrong. Wrong as in  _really_ wrong, because there's a large hole in his stomach, and he's only just now realizing it as he slaps at it haphazardly with his empty hand. The pain takes a moment to register, and when it finally does, his gun slips from his fingers and he sucks in a quick breath, only to find that that makes it burn even more.

He knows he should probably take a break, and get that fixed, but every time he takes another step, the world suddenly shifts and spins in all the wrong ways. If he wants to keep his lunch, then he can't move an inch, and if he wants to keep a little bit of his blood, then he should probably move a lot more than an inch.

In his current state of mind, he's not really sure he can decide which one is a better choice. 

His own hands move in slow motion as he reaches up to pull his helmet off, and instead of making the suffocating feeling go away, it's replaced with a sudden onslaught of sounds and scents and he just wants it to stop. But it's too late, he's already dropped the helmet, and leaning over to get it would either, A, cause him to tumble right off the roof, or B, feel the heat of a thousand suns in his torso.

In the distance, he can hear someone talking, and they might be saying his name, but the voice is overlapping with the sudden explosions that he can hear all around him. He can't  _see_ them, so he thinks maybe they aren't real, but he can  _hear_ them so much that they make his ears crackle. 

The voice gets louder and he vaguely realizes that it's coming from the comm in his ear, and he yanks it out, stomping on it as an impulse rather than a conscious decision. He doesn't remember where he got it or why he had it in because he doesn't work with anyone, nobody wants to work with him, why would he need that?

And suddenly he finds himself scrambling back because  _holy shit_ , what the  _hell_ is that?

It's large and it's black and blue and it's terrifying. Whatever it is, it wants to get closer to him, because it's gnarly limbs reach for him and he tries to get away, but somehow he ended up on the ground, and he can't go very fast. 

Its mouth is moving like it's trying to form words, but it doesn't look human enough to know how to use them. But it keeps trying, and eventually, he hits the raised ledge. Before he can scramble up and over the edge, which, in the event that he could actually think straight, he would realize is a terrible idea, it grabs him by the front of his jacket with one hand and goes for his neck with the other.

He thinks he screams because it feels like he does, but he can't hear himself over the sound of the laughter that's suddenly coming from the monster's mouth. He thrashes to get away, and the burning in his stomach increases tenfold with the strenuous movement. He ignores it in favor of trying to duck away from the hand-like appendage that continues to reach for his neck. 

Every other part of his skin is covered in some kind of armor, except for there, because he got rid of his helmet. And he has a brief break in the all around chaos to think,  _fuck, I am stupid, why did I do that,_ before it goes back to being a whirlwind of hysteria. 

And then something pierces the skin of his neck, and he  _freaks out._ He starts to scream and twist every which way to get away from whatever the hell it is that's leaning over him, but the sound of laughter and the shaking caused by the explosions is starting to calm, and he's confused now.

When he finally stops screaming, he sucks in a breath that feels like swallowing nails and opens his eyes. Things are still swimming, but now he sees a face he recognizes, and not a monster.

The face is masked and it looks heartbroken and it's all too much.

He's on his feet in seconds, despite the screaming protest the wound in his stomach gives and removes himself from the ledge.

"Jay," Dick says helplessly, reaching out again. 

Jason's eyes stray to the empty syringe in his hand, and then back to his face. It wasn't a monster, it was just Nightwing.

He doesn't let that comfort him in the slightest, especially not when he sees the dark shadow lurking behind the first Robin.

"Stay there," Jason croaks, holding out a hand and reaching for the gun he still has left. He pulls it out and trains his aim on Dick's forehead, even though he knows there's a fifty-fifty chance he could be disarmed before he could blink. 

Dick humors him anyway, and that look is still on his face, and Jason doesn't like it.

"You've lost a lot of blood, Jay, let us help you," he says, with the nickname and everything, like everything is okay.

But everything is not okay, and Jason is not okay, and he  _can't_ be here anymore. 

And he makes this clear, as he leans down to snatch his helmet from the roof. " _Don't_ call me that." 

He settles for just that until he's nearly off the roof, and Dick says his name again.

"Stay the fuck away from me, for once," he snarls, shoving his helmet back on his head and jumping over the edge. He knows they'll try to follow him, to make sure he doesn't end up dead in some dumpster, so he takes the most confusing route back to his safe house.

His wound suffers for it, but he'd much rather that than be sitting in the Batcave right now, letting Dick hover and Alfred care and Bruce brood. And when he makes it back to his safehouse and starts to patch up the gruesome gash, he tries to make himself forget that anything even happened on that roof, because he is fine, and he doesn't need them.

Sure, maybe he's started to think that _hard times_ probably aren't supposed to last your  _entire life_ , but he doesn't need them around to fix that. He's fine. 

He's always been fine on his own.

**Author's Note:**

> there should be twelve parts to this series, one part corresponding with each song, if all goes to plan.


End file.
